Unfinished: The Forlorn Lair
by o0Alanna0o
Summary: [Attention! Unfinished story not likely to ever be finished!] One possibility added to the other thousands: When Raoul and Christine do no stay together, what will she do, when her angel sings to her again? When her past haunts her, where will her road lead? ...and what does an angel do with a broken heart?
1. Prologue

**Title:** The Forlorn Lair

**Author: **o0Alanna0o

**Rating: **T maybe going on M

**Warnings: **There might eventually be explicit scenes in the future...

**Summary:** One possibility added to the other thousands: When Raoul and Christine do not stay together, what will she do when her angel sings to her again? When her past haunts her, where will her road lead? ...and what does an angel do with a broken heart?

_A/N: I have a pretty detailed image of how the background of my story is set: I completely follow the happenings of the musical, which means for example, that the opera does not burn down at the end. Nevertheless I like the settings of the film very much, so they are what I have in mind while writing. My Phantom has Gerard Butler's looks and Michael Crawfort's voice. Christine's voice and looks are both Emmy Rossum's. There is just one exception: The point of no return is sung by Emmy Rossum (logically) and Gerard Butler. This might not seem too important to you, but it matters very much to me because the two of them put so much more sensuality, sexuality and passion into it._

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**Prologue**

_Christine saw his dark shape moving towards her with the grace of a big cat._

_He was clad, as he always was, with tight black trousers and a white shirt with quillings, which underlined his broad chest._

_Around them was darkness and she could barely figure out the surroundings._

_She lifted her head and realized that he now stood in front of her._

_Slowly and a little uncertain she took a step forward to look directly in his dark, nearly black eyes which were glowing in the dark._

_She could hear his steady breathing, feel the warmth his body was radiating and smell his familiar scent, earth and a faint breeze of roses._

_His gaze burned on her face, but he remained quiet and so did she and although half of it was hidden under the white mask, she could see, that his face was serious when he bent down to her._

_She closed her eyes, his lips brushing hers in a feathery light kiss…_

---

Christine startled awake.

She opened her eyes, however she could see nothing but the bright moon, shining through a gap in the heavy curtains.

Absently she touched her lips, searching the room for someone.

It was empty.

She could feel herself trembling and got up from her bed to get some fresh air.

Through the opened window, she saw the few lights of the city, casting long shadows on the streets.

For a long time she just stood there and let the cold air of the beginning winter cool her heated skin until she could barely feel her toes and fingers.

Still trembling, but now because of the cold, she closed the window and the drapes and crawled back under her warm covers.

After a while, she felt herself humming a melody, she had not heard for at least four years.

It comforted her and yet, she felt sad about it.

Drifting off into sleep, she let the melody float on in her mind, seeing the man with the mask before her, singing with his beautiful intoxicating voice, until she finally fell asleep, the music filling all her dreams.

_Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendour…_

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_TBC_


	2. Chapter 1

_Wow, after such a long time I finally got myself to write the first _real_ chapter of this story. This was written in just a few hours and I ask you to remember that I neither have a beta nor am I a native speaker, but other than that: Enjoy!_

_Naturally, "The Phantom of the Opera" and all its characters to not belong to me and no profit (except the fun of writing it) is being made with this story!_

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**Chapter 1**

After a long day of rehearsals Christine had finally found her way back to her dressing room.

While she had been too occupied by her training during the day, she now started pondering the previous night. As hard as she tried to distract herself by getting ready for going home, her thoughts kept on rushing back to her strange dream again and again.

Why had she started dreaming of _him_ again?

That dreadful night down at the lake, when the Phantom and Raoul had fought over her and her love, had already been four years ago. During the first nights after the incident she had lived through the most horrifying nights, but as time went by and _he_ didn't return, the nightmares had eventually ceased. Nevertheless there had not even been one moment in which she had forgotten him. She smirked, when she remembered her father's old song which she and Raoul had used to sing.

_'Know what I love', best Lotte said, 'is when I'm asleep in my bed and the angel of music sings songs in my head, the angel of music sings songs in my head…'_

Ironically enough, she heard herself hum what she had made of this song so many years ago.

_'And he'll always be there, singing songs in my head…'_

Yes, he was there singing songs in her head, although – and that made the difference – it was the memory of him which kept chasing through her mind. She saw him clearly before her eyes, as if it had been yesterday and exactly like she had in her latest dream. There he was in tails, with a white shirt and his white leather mask covering one half of his face.

Sighing, she snapped out of her thoughts and continued changing the rest of her clothes, just throwing her costume over the back of the chair. On turning around to gather her things and leave, her gaze fell upon the mirror which she had hidden under a huge blanket. After the events down at the lake she had been unable to look at it without getting uneasy, so she had thrown a random black rug over it. Through the years she had forgotten all about it or rather blocked out its existence and in the scarcely lit room it did not catch any attention at all, vanishing from sight in its dark corner.

At first, she wanted to leave the room quickly but as she remembered the mirror, she could not but turn around and stare at it. Soon she felt that strange uneasiness flare up again. Something clenched in her stomach but the longer she stood there, the less she was able to just flee from all the memories welling up again.

_Flattering child you shall know me, see why in shadow I hide  
Look at your face in the mirror – I am there inside!_

This time there was no spell about her when she took some uncertain steps forward. She felt like time had been put into slower motion when she raised her hand. She saw her fingers tremble and asked herself for the hundredth time why she was so nervous about everything.

Despite her mental rambling, she took all her courage and pulled the blanket away from the massive frame.

---

Christine sat on the ground in front of the mirror. She did not know what exactly she had expected to happen. Maybe she had expected to see his face in the smoky glass or hear him sing for real again, but nothing had changed since the moment the cover had fallen from the mirror.

Now she finally allowed herself to really think about everything she had avoided to think since she had gotten out of bed this morning.

It all had started nearly five years ago when she had made the acquaintance of the Phantom. He had visited her, posing as her Angel of Music, and taught her to sing. More than that, he had shown her the beauty and power of music. He had opened her eyes to a world where music moved the hearts of the people and where one single tune could change one's life forever.

As Christine started to remember the time after that, images began racing through her mind, scenes playing before her inner eye. She remembered replacing Charlotta in "Hannibal" for the first time, meeting her childhood-sweetheart Raoul again, seeing the Phantom for real and visiting his lair, the following plays and romancing Raoul, the Phantom getting ever so angry about it, the masquerade and finally "Don Juan" and her passionate duet with the Phantom.

She shuddered unwillingly as she remembered what had followed that duet. Raoul and the Phantom had fought over her and there had been a moment when she had not at all been certain about her decision. Afterwards, however, she had explained everything to herself in quite a nice way.

The Phantom was a brutal, unscrupulous and mentally crippled creature who had tried to take advantage of her. Since she was a good person she had felt pity for him but when he had threatened to kill Raoul she had come to her senses.

There was only one thing that did not fit into her nicely arranged explanation and that was the kiss. As hard as she had tried to forget that kiss, her dream from the past night showed her that it had gotten deeply under her skin.

_Christine I love you…_

She shook herself to get out of the spin of thoughts she was beginning to get engaged in.

She did not know what exactly had happened with the Phantom after the night of "Don Juan". Meg, who had entered the lair shortly after Raoul and herself had left with the boat, had told her that the mob had found the cave empty. Christine, however, had not wanted to explore the topic further after that night and so they had never talked about it again.

Hesitantly, Christine got up and examined the mirror. She herself had, once upon a time, walked through it and since she did not believe in such magic, it had to be some kind of jib door. While probing the frame she at last found what she had been looking for. There was a very small leverage built so neatly into the wood, that one could barely recognize it. She managed to move it and with a little snap the door sprang open.

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Christine had not really expected him to be there in the dungeon, but a part of her, some small part had hoped to find him. Instead, she looked at a deserted lair. There were no candles lit, no torches, except the one she carried. Everything was covered with a thick layer of dust, a silent sign for the solitude of the place.

He was gone indeed and he was not possibly to return. He could be everywhere by now.

Christine encouraged herself to walk around. It was cold down there, but she knew, that the reason why she was shaking had little to do with temperature.

As she made her way further, she suddenly recognized the mirrors. They were broken, as if someone had smashed something hard against them. She knew immediately that there was only one person who had all reasons to do so and she felt a twinge at the thought of him destroying the glass.

When she realized, that this all had to be her fault, she fell down to her knees and silent tears started their way down her cheeks.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, but it took quite some while for her to calm down again. When she rose at last, to make her way back to the part of the opera house which was above the earth, her eyes were red from the crying and her muscles stiff from sitting that long.

For one last time she looked at the dark and at the same time not so dark place. Suddenly, she heard words ring in her ears which she had almost forgotten.

…

_Wishing you were__ somehow here again  
__Wishing you were somehow near  
Sometimes it seemed  
if I just dreamed,  
Somehow you would be here_

_Wishing I could hear your voice again  
Knowing that I never would  
Dreaming of you  
Won't help me to do  
All that you dreamed I could_

…

She turned abruptly and took the boat back to the real world, the bright world, the world without an Angel of Music.


End file.
